Perfect
by rocketfire1999
Summary: They're perfect. Every single one of them. Nothing has every stood in their way - their lives have been so easy, and yet, hers has been such a contrast. The team don't know just what has happened to her; before the costume, before the shell of anger around her formed. But you can't hide your past forever.
1. Perfect

When you see them, it's perfection.

The way they move - in synchronization. Every fight is performed with a lining of elegance. They look practiced, professional, strong. You can sense a strong bond between them, a friendship. A perfect friendship. Trust.

And they all lead perfect lives, everything they want at their fingertips, no one stands in their way. No one has ever stood in their way.

All of them have everything they need, nothing to worry about.

It's different to her.

I rolled over, a bright light blinding me. I shoved my face into my pillow.

Not again.

The pillow muffles my yelp as I am lifted by the collar of my shirt out of bed and thrown across the room.

You need training, he says. When he turns, the torch switches off, and I am plunged back into darkness.

The electricity barely gets paid anymore - I feel like I'm living my life in darkness.

I shift my body so I'm sitting up, taking out my own torch. I've done this before, but that doesn't make it easy.

Right on cue, I hear men shouting outside. There must be about a dozen, surrounding the house. I can already imagine them. Rough looking men, with guns,knives, and whatever weapons they could pick up on the way here. They don't care that they're chasing a girl. They don't mind it's the bosses daughter. They just want blood. They want to see me cry, like I did when it first started. But that would be given those sadists pleasure, so I know to button up when they catch me. If they catch me.

I grab my arrows and run to the elevator. It's been broken for years, but the stairs aren't an option. I jam an arrow between the cold steel doors, pushing with all my might. The doors make a loud grinding noise as they open just a crack. I force myself to push harder,my muscles screaming for me to stop. When the crack is big enough I jump through,elevator doors shutting with a clang behind me. I grab the cable as I fall, wincing as it burns my hand. My left shoulders makes a clicking sound and I bite my lip, ignoring the pain.

I drag myself up the shaft, listening to the sounds of them men fade. I reach the top, pulling the doors apart while clinging onto the cable with my legs.

I'm out.

I run to the edge of the roof, looking at the shimmering city below. Despite the darkness,the night is lit up with dazzling signs. It is one of the few moments when you realize the beauty of Gotham.

Then it's over.

A man below is walking along, about to run into a young woman who is looking frightened.

It's Gotham. Everyone is frightened.

Suddenly, the man has the woman pressed up against the wall, his knife shimmering, reflecting the city's lights. The woman opens her mouth but the man says something, holding his knife centimeters away from her throat. Shaking, she reaches for her purse.

No.

I can't let this happen.

I sprint down the fire escape, reaching for my bow.

By the last few steps I've aimed and fired, the fierce knife knocked from the mans hand. He swears, clutching his hand. I fire another arrow from the shadows, and the thief screams as it scrapes his hand, stumbling back.

Wuss.

The woman, seeing her chance, runs.

Instep out of the shadows towards the man. He sees me and laughs, his deep sounds echoing in the empty street. He runs at me, but I sidestep easily. A few swift punches and he's out, lying unconscious on the dirty pavement.

Easy.

Suddenly I am grabbed by behind. A burning pain pierces my back, and I scream. In the sudden darkness I can make out many shadows.

They've found me.

My bag of arrows is ripped from my clutch and tossed away. Lashing out, I bite someone's hand. The hand draws back with a yell, but seconds later I am hit in the back of the head with what I think is a crowbar.

My eyes water, my head spins. The world around me goes blurry as the pain numbs my body. I slump over, on my knees, as my father's goons laugh at me, punching and pinching me. Through my the blur, I see a shape that can only be my father.

He stares at me for a moment, then kicks my knees, causing me to fall again, hitting my head on the pavement, causing even more pain.

He leans down, his face close to mine. Through the tears I can barely make out his face.

He instructs his men to wait for a moment. I sigh at the slight easing of my pain.

"I'm disappointed in you, Artemis" he says. He nods to his 'helpers' and they continue what they started, until all I see is black.


	2. Frozen

**It's finally here! The next chapter to Perfect 3**

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed. It meant a lot and was very encouraging for me to publish this next chapter I never thought this would receive so many reviews and it really surprised me.**

**Well, here it is!**

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><p>They save lives. They do whatever they can to keep people safe, but would they harm another to spare themselves humiliation?<br>Of course, that kind of situation would have never come upon them, because, well, they had no fear. No _true fear._ No fear of getting hurt and not being able to fight back, no fear of disappointing their heroes, no fear of losing everything because of that little voice in the back of their head that always tells them to do the right thing.  
>She on the otherhand, did.<p>

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"Get up"

I grasped the wall, shaking, to pull myself into a sitting position. My whole body was bruised and battered.

But then, when was it not?

Something hard shoved my shoulder, sending another wave of pain through my me. So much pain. I wanted a break from it, it was a constant reality I was forced to dwell in.

Father dropped his tool beside my bed, letting it make as much noise as possible.

The noise as it clattered on the ground made me wince as it echoed in my ears.

I wanted to curl up in a little tiny ball and forget about what father was about to make me do. I wanted to lie there until he left, and finally it would be just me and mum but I knew it wouldn't last, not for long.

It was the same every time it happened.

He would come back, and Mum would apologize, then he'd hit her. Even when she didn't deserve it. Even when it was _all my fault._

I hated that.

I just wanted to run out and make him stop hurting her.

But instead I would lie in bed and listen to Mum's pathetic whimpers and the sound of the violent beatings he'd dish out on her body muffled by the door that led to the living room.

Father lifted off my blanket swearing. The sudden cold made me jump up.

I realized I was still wearing last night's clothes and before he could do any further damage, I checked my body for any serious damage.

I sighed, who was I kidding? It was all serious. My head was throbbing and my back ached. I was sure I had broken _something_ I just wasn't sure what something was. It was hard to pick out between the other pains I felt throughout my entire body. Bruises couldn't cause this sort of pain.

"Come with me"

I followed my father to his old rusty truck withno license plate and got in as he slammed the door behind me, barely letting me get my fingers out of the way in time.

The truck rattled constantly as we drove through the night which was quickly becoming day. Not even a street light lit the way on the dark and dreary road. I couldn't even see ahead, there was an early morning fog and drizzling rain clouding the view.

Finally the engine died down.

From Father's glare, I knew it was time to get out.

I pleaded with my eyes - hoping he would just take me home. But he shifted his head so he didn't have to bear my gaze.

Rain pattered down on my head as I exited the vehicle, hair sticking to face as I darted away from several puddles. I stopped by his window before I walked to the pavement.

"You know what to do" he hissed, pressing his foot down on the accelerator and speeding off into the night, disappearing into the darkness

The porch light was on and a welcome mat sat at the door but I knew this wasn't my welcome, I was taking a different way in.

I went past every window of the small house until I saw a light. I stopped, pressing my ear to the icy window and peeked in through the gap in the curtain to hear the conversation inside.

"I don't know what to do. I've passed that life but..." A deep voice muttered, dying off as footsteps entered the room.

"Daddy?"

I felt a pang in my heart as a girl my age ran over and hugged her father, making him smile.

"What's wrong Rose?" The fathers voice was soft now as he cradled his daughter, rocking her slowly on his knee.

"It's far past your bedtime" A woman's voice said.

I tried to adjust my head so I could see her, but she was hidden by the purple cloth on the other side of the window.

"I..."

"Did you have a nightmare?"

The girl burst into tears, clenching her fists and sobbing.

Her father swept away the tears, looking into her eyes.

"What's wrong princess?"

"I had a dream a-and you didn't l-like me anymore!" The girl set into a fresh wave of tears as her father pulled her closer.

She was childish. Or was I mature?

"I will always love you, honey. It was just a dream. I will be here for you forever. I mean it. Forever."

"Promise?" the girl sniffed, holding up her pinkie.

Her father linked it in his own, " I promise I will always love you and be here for you, even when you have a nightmare"

"I love you Daddy" the girl smiled, pecking her father on the cheek before trotting off to her room.

I tried to stop the tears rolling down my face. I wanted that so much.

That little girl didn't know how lucky she was - her father actually loved her.

God, she was lucky her father even liked her.

"I'd better head off to bed too"

"Good night Tom."

The father walked into his room and I crept after him, stopping at his window.

I heard a brief sigh before the rustling of a sheet, then finally, slow, steady breathing.

I slipped a pin through the window, twisting it.

I heard a brief click as the window unlocked.

Sighing at the sudden warmth, I tiptoed over to the end of Tom's bed.

I reached for my backpack grabbing an arrow and my bow.

This was it. I had to do it.

I drew back my bow.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Good job."

I tried to smile at the praise as Father patted me on the head.

I climbed back into bed, unable to go back to sleep. It wasn't the bruises. No, that hurting had subsided. It was another pain, one that engulfed my entire body.

I blocked out the image that i knew was to take place the next morning, of the mother finding her husband, lying there...

The blanket made me hot, but the warmth didn't reach my heart. It felt as though it had just... frozen over.

Maybe that's how Jade did it.

Her heart just froze over so she didn't care that she was ruining families.

Maybe one day I would be as good as her.

One day.

But for now, there was only one thought on my mind.

Thanks to me, Tom had broken his promise.

I picked the arrow back out of my bag, it's tip still wet with the thick crimson liquid.

This task meant acceptance.

I knew I was finally accepted into my family, but I didn't know if I actually liked it.

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><p><strong>Thank you to xkyoxdiex for Beta-ing this. For anyone reading, I am also in desperate need of a Beta, so if you're interested please just send me a PM. The next chapter will be up very soon, but reviews make me work faster ;)<strong>


	3. Broken

**Oh my god. I'm so mean. But hey, this is my favourite chapter so far.**

**So.**

**something has happened between this chapter and the last. What, you say, what could have possibly happened! Well something not too nice judging by this chapter, I answer. Flashbacks in next chapter.**

**Thank you to anyone who reviewed, it makes me SOOO happy. Still looking for a beta.**

They hadn't felt pain, they felt discomfort. She felt _pain_. Not just a physical ache, but a searing, indescribable pang inside. The knowledge that you were badly hurt and there was nothing you could do about it. At least they knew that this was most likely to be a one time thing. But her... She knew it was going to come again. And all she could do was try her best, even if it would never be enough.

...

The guilt was eating away at me, like some monster. It started in my heart and slowly spread out under my skin. It was almost like it had started to feast on my flesh, leaving deep purple smudges and dark red welts. I could feel bugs under my skin, crawling, creeping, trying to dig their way out, and I wondered what they had put in that drink.

I rolled over, trying to get comfortable on the hard mattress, whimpering as my back bent slightly, sending missiles of pain firing up my neck. I couldn't put my head down without it throbbing, screaming for me not to let it touch anything. Inside, I was screaming back for it to go away. For the pain, the marks, the scars, the guilt, to disappear. I wanted to act like I had a normal father, who loved me, and didn't let his henchmen hurt me when I failed him. I wanted, I needed to believe this wasn't real.

Yet, be that as it may, I still had not learned my lesson.

It seemed to be that my punishments were getting worse, but that may have been because I was getting bolder and bolder.

A brief high. That was all I got before coming to a crashing, tumbling low as reality set in again.

I tried to think about other things.

" _Good job._"

The praise I had gotten from my father was still ringing in my ears.

Was that why I had pushed him? Because I was hoping that he was too happy with me to push back?

I wanted to break something. Hurt something. Yet not someone. I didn't want to inflict any pain... Because I knew for myself what pain felt like. No one deserves it.

I reached out to grab my empty glass, a reminder of what had happened to my arm right in front of my face.

A cast.

The arm I drew my bow with was in a cast. I tried to keep my breathing level normal as my heart began to race. My arm was hurt. My drawing arm was hurt. I shut my eyes, wishing for pain to consume it like the rest of my body. I did not want a nonchalant gentle throbbing that made my lower arm numb, I wanted to feel the phsyical pain cripple my body as it was doing my mind knowing that I was rendered useless. At least that way, I would have noticed the break straight away instead of it dawning on me this much later. What if I couldn't use my arm again? What if it was really serious? What if...

I mentally told myself to shut up and calm down. I had to keep my head on, despite the splitting headache that made me want to just get rid of it and freak out. I tried to test my arm but the cast was snug restricting me from doing much of anything. I took the edge of the plaster and tried and peer down into it, but my wrist was too swollen to see past. Okay. Swelling wasn't the greatest sign. But it could just be a sprain...

I sighed, who was a kidding? My arm was in a fricken cast. It wasn't going to be just a little bruised. I shut my eyes, placing one hand on the side of my head, ignoring my twisted and purple fingers. I placed what I could of my cast-arm hand on the other side of my head, leaning back into the pillow.

I felt all of the frustration, pain and anger well up inside me and screamed. I just screamed until it felt like all the things crawling under my skin left me. It was all I could do, just keep screaming, and screaming. I didn't cry nor did I want to. I had done enough of it before waking up. Just as my voice felt like it was going to give out, my mother came into the room, looking over me worriedly. I could hear her trying to be sympathetic and comforting as I screamed on. Between my hoarse screams, I could hear her choking up. She called for someone and soon another voice joined hers in the room. I started to move and kick whatever limbs I could. My right leg wouldn't budge, so I bit and slapped anyone who came near me. I could see red as two pairs of strong arms pinned me down, another pair holding my mouth shut. I continued to scream with my mouth forced closed, creating a high pitched whine. I felt warmth and pain shoot into my lower leg, as a sleepy feeling came over my body. My limbs stopped responding and my mouth refused to make any more protesting noises.

With a few final panting breaths, I slipped into darkness.

**Dark, I know. I hope it doesn't get worse than this or I may have to change the rating to an M. For those who read the ANs at the end, I want to get more than six (last chapters amount) reviews before I publish the next chapter. Or a million favorites. If I were you guys, I'd go with the reviewing option.**


	4. Trying

**Okay, this chapter is a 'flashback' of what happened between chapters 2 and 3. Bold and in the center means it's a article. Italic is a flashback. Annndddd this is the AN. I was going to try and get more than 6 reviews for the****last chapter but I was desperate to publish this :p  
><strong>**I still want reviews though!**

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><p>Sometimes the best they could do was enough. They could try their hardest and suddenly everything was alright. But for her... Nothing was enough. If the best she could do was carryp something, she'd have to carry two. And when she got used to that, the amount was doubled again. She didn't get rewards. She didn't get a plaque. She didn't have her name in the newspaper.<p>

Because you have to do something good for that.

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**Thomas Wilkon was found dead in his bed last Saturday, foul play suspected. A wound across his chest suggests the use of blunt dagger or some kind of sharpened tool. Strangely, the killer did not use the obvious choice of a gun, and murdered the 49 year old at his home, instead of out in the streets where he had been only an hour previous to estimated time of death.**

**Wilkon was a retired drug dealer, who, after only a year in prison, lent a hand to police forces by revealing his gang and many others, leading to a conviction of 64 men and 23 woman. This decreased cases of overdose in Gotham that month by over 30%, and Wilkon was later awarded the Gotham Police award, only given out once every ten years to someone who has either made a tremendous sacrifice, helped out GP, or has done something to help in force law.**

**Giving away information about many gangs made him a prime subject for murder, although he had been heavily guarded whenever he had left house in the suburbs of Gotham. An open window revealed how the intruder entered, although the window had been rigged to only allow a small gap, so the suspect may be an extremely short adult or child. One of the suspects is Michael Dore, a dwarf assassin who-**

I threw the newspaper aside, shutting my eyes.

The media saw that as a low, my father saw it as a high... And I... Wasn't sure. All I had known was that this somehow made me eligible to get away with something. And now... I fingered my cast slowly, dancing my fingers up the rock like brace. The cast was due to come off in a week, although I barely remembered the months that had passed. I had been so dosed up on I had slept most of the time. The small amounts of times I had been awake my mother had been patrolling me constantly, in case I threw another 'tantrum'. I scratched my head, eyeing the nurse who had replaced my mother. She refused to look at me, focussing on her knitting, a stern, annoyed look on her face. I sighed, rolling over. At least I could move my back now. I shut my eyes, sleepiness washing over me again.

_A figure appeared in my doorway, it's eyes a deep green in the darkness  
><em>_Darkness. For me, it seemed every moment, every day, started with darkness. I could escape it, no matter where I ran or where I hid._

_"You did a good job last time"  
><em>_Praise? Did my ears deceive me?  
><em>_"This time, do better"  
><em>_Perhaps they did._

_I groaned, wondering how i could make noise at... I rolled over to check my clock... 3 o'clock in the morning. Sitting up, I stretched my arms, leaning back to feel slight pressure along my spine._

_I heard my father yell from the hall, for taking too long, so I yanked on a jumper and jeans. Huh. I had slept in my pajamas. That had to be a first. I hasn't slept in my pajamas since I found out who my father was. I used to think he was a secret agent. Secret, yes, an agent as well. But he didn't exactly fight for the good side._

_I joined my father in the hall, almost glowing when he smiled slightly. It was close to the proud look he would display every time he saw Jade._

_My father mumbled something under his breath before leading the way to his car. I felt like I was reliving the previous night._

_"Sork decided he didn't want to take the deal"_

_I nodded as though I had half an idea of what he was saying. Jade was usually the one who knew what he was actually talking about._

_"Influenced by the very unfortunate death of Wilkon. And I thought I was just setting an example to any one who gave me away"_

_I refrained from pointing out that I was the one setting the example. The thought increased the lead weight in my stomach that had been growing since I had reached for my arrow last night._

_"Of course, if we wipe Sork out he won't be able to take the deal. So we'll encourage him, and promise to do it again if he doesn't accept"_

_I raised a brow, daring to talk._

_"Are we going to interrogate him or something?"_

_I heard my father almost laugh, turning sharply around the corner._

_"No. He has a son called Harry."_

_My heart dropped, but I tried to convince myself I was wrong._

_"So are we going to talk to him? The Harry kid?"_

_"Artemis, how stupid are you? We're going to kill him"_

_"B-Bu-"_

_"No fingerprints. He's only thirteen so police will really want to get involved, a bit more than Stork." He handed over a small metal device, without removing his eyes from the road, "I want you to film it. Make it slow so Sork gets the point"_

_I fingered the video camera as my father pulled over._

_"He walks past second - that's just around the corner - every morning for his daily walk. Though this is barely the morning. More like the middle of the night. He should cut through the back alley - that one just there - where you'll be waiting for him. Remember the video"_

_Dumbfounded, I tumbled out of the car. In a daze, I took my position in the back lane. I could hear whistling in the distance as my father took up stance across the street._

_Why couldn't he do it? Why was he making me do all his dirty work?_

_Harry smiled slightly when he saw me. I shut my eyes, waving in response. He took out his headphones stopping next to me._

_"Bit late for a girl like you to be out" he grinned, his eyes sparkling._

_I had to do it._

_I nodded._

_"You live round here? You look a bit too pretty to be hanging round these parts. Famous for murders, ya'know."_

_I blushed at his words, my head spinning._

_"So why are you out in a famous for murders area?" I asked hoarsely. _

_"My pops works in these dirty parts. Hey, there's an all night diner just round the corner, do you want a coffee?" He held out his hands innocently "Don't worry, I'm not some weirdo." _

_I couldn't do it._

_I had to._

_I followed the boy, my father shooting me a strange look from across the street. I winked as though I knew what I was doing._

_Harry opened the door for me I to the diner, calling to the waitress before we sat down._

_"Two coffees. One extra sweet" he grinned at me and my heart fluttered._

_"How old are you?" He asked when the waitress left._

_"Fourteen" I mumbled. Give or take a year. Years._

_"I'm fourteen in march. As I was asking before, why are you hanging round here?"_

_God. I was being hit on by my subject, who I'd have to kill in a few minutes._

_Our coffees were put down on the table in takeaway cups._

_"Mind if we walk with these?" I said, standing quickly. Harry laughed, chucking a few notes down on the table and grabbing my arm to lead me out. _

_My father looked amazed as we walked out. He had his phone pressed to his ear and his mouth stopped moving when he saw us. Right, I had my arm linked with a soon to be dead kid. _

_I turned to Harry, taking the arrow out of my pack._

_"Woah!" He said, amazed, dropping his coffee. I threw my own aside, turning to him._

_I held him up by his neck against the wall, my face set in a line. No emotion. No emotion._

_"What the hell are you doing?" He asked suddenly. I saw fear in his eyes when I fumbled with my bow. "Oh my god, no... My dad said to be careful. Crap... Please don't kill me" I froze._

_"I've been assigned to kill you" I hissed.  
><em>_"Shit"_

_"But I can't. I can't do this anymore"_

_Out if the corner of my eye, I could see my father. He was talking go a group of men. I dropped my arrow, letting it clatter on the ground. My father span around at the noise, followed by his goons._

_"In a minute I'm going to let you go, and you have to run."_

_My father was now walking towards me, increasing his pace when I opened my mouth again._

_"Tell your father to go into hiding. Tell him Sportsmaster is after him. Just don't tell him about me."_

_Harry nodded incredulously. He gasped slightly, and I realized my hand was pressed up against his throat. I loosened my grip and he took a deep breath, his attention now on my father and his men who were practically running towards us now._

_"What's your name?" He whispered._

_"Artemis" I muttered, dropping him on the ground._

_"Thanks... Artemis" he mumbled back, standing up, scratching the back of his head slowly._

_"Run." I said quietly as he followed, turning to sprint into the darkness. I watched him disapear as something pierced my back._

_Screaming, I fell to my knees. Something grabbed my hand, twisting my arm and then applying pressure to the elbow. I heard a sickening crunch as another pair of hands starting punching my chest. The wind was knocked out of my lungs and I threw my head back. The man took his hands away and a second later a crowbar met my chest. I heard my ribs crack, waves of pain circling my body. My arm throbbed as I gasped for air. Every breath I took caused my head to spin. More people were upon me now. My fingers were bent and stepped on. _

_Fighting wasn't an option._

_I keeled over to cough up blood, throwing up acid and a dark red liquid I was only too familiar with._

_I let myself lie on the ground as something hard hit my leg. It throbbed for a moment before something sharp was dragged up along it, replacing the throbbing with an agonizing pain. My head was picked up and thrown against the ground. I couldn't see anymore. My head was swimming, and the world was spinning. The yells around me grew louder, mixing until their demands became almost a melody, engulfing me like the pain. My body grew numb as my fathers voice sang out, louder and deeper than any of the other voices. He seemed to be responding to someone,_

_"I don't give a damn. She is no daughter of mine. You can kill her for all I care."_

_Kill her._

_Before I blacked out, I knew they were going to come close._

I woke screaming, my eyes watering. The pain wasn't as horrible as in the nightmare. Hands were stroking my forehead.

"Just a dream Artemis" the owner whispered.

They didn't know.

That dream was how I got here.

I shut my eyes again. I couldn't do this anymore.

Still hadn't learnt my lesson.

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><p><strong>Oh geese. XDDD for the dwarf assassin. I cant decide if I want to continue Artemis' life like this, or make her join YJ now. Any ideas would be greatly appreciated. Anddd im still looking for a beta.<strong>

**Review!**


	5. Darkness

**Woah, the six reviews came a lot more quickly this time. Must've been the dwarf assassin * high fives dwarf assassin * (he sits by my desk)**

**Thank you again, for all you're kind reviews. Guess what? This chapter, arty doesn't get beaten until she almost dies! Bit of a change, eh? Let me know if you prefer to see her getting beat up or have her doing something like this… I have the next chapter WAITING for my six reviews ;P**

**Oh yeah, italic = flashback (there are bits from homefront in here…)**

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><p>Darkness. We have all feared it at one point. It is a hollow emptiness. A pit of eternal black. A shadow. A nightmare.<p>

Light. Light cured it. Cured the black darkness. Turned nightmares into dreams, night into day. It let you escape fleeting moments of fear. But she was darkness. She was raised by darkness, born and bred to be like the one who treated her so cruelly. So she stumbled forward. Tripping, falling.

Because in the darkness you cannot see.

You are blind.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . .

My hand snaked out to reach the light, before I realized what I was doing. I tucked it under the duvet and blinked a few times to adjust to the darkness.  
>Okay. This was simple enough.<p>

Wasn't it?

Careful not to make any noise, I slipped out of bed, padding to the chest at the end of my bed. The hinges squealed into the night, echoing around the still house. Wincing, I continued, lifting out my backpack and hoisting it onto my shoulder. I still had some room. Hesitantly, I grabbed my bow and arrow. One half of my brain said no - he brought you up to use the bow. You're supposed to be leaving him behind.  
>And the other, well, it thought the opposite - you're good with the bow. If something goes wrong you can protect yourself.<p>

Before I could convince myself otherwise, I hastily folded the bow into its compact mode and shoved it into my bag, along with a few of my best arrows.

Was I really doing this?

I stood to take one last look at my bedroom, at my secret sanctuary where I had escaped the outside world.

Jades bed sat, as messy as she had left it, every possession she had left untouched, as if waiting for her return.

I used to wait for her return, too.

Some wishes just won't come true.

I stopped in the bathroom to check my hair. It lay messily across my shoulders.

_"I love your hair Arty"_

_"No. It's too long."_

_"At least you don't have black hair. Let me tie it up, it will look even better"_

_"No! Daddy says my hair looks better like this!"_

I grabbed a rubber band and tied my hair up. My entire face looked different, older even. I didn't look like the scared little girl I was a few seconds ago. I didn't look like my fathers daughter. I wasn't wearing my hair the way my father wanted it. And that gave me a very slight sense of fulfillment.

I gave my reflection a curt nod and exited the tiled room.

I began to make my way down our carpeted stairs, jumping over the fourth creaky step. At the bottom of the stairs I made a detour away from my parents room. Mum used to sleep with my father, but lately she had slept on the couch.

I seemed to forget that for a brief moment.

"Artemis?"

"Mum" I whispered to the dark figure sitting in her chair. Her back was slumped and her eyes shone with sadness.

"I'm sorry Mum. I can't-"

"I know Artemis. I wished I had as much courage as you." she gestured for me to come closer to give me a kiss on the cheek.

"Be a good girl, okay? Be strong and... Follow the right path. Okay?"

"Yes, Mum" I murmured.

"Promise me"

"I promise" I slid my pinky through hers, watching her still face struggle to keep the sad smile it held.

I envied young girls who had a nice father.

But I was pretty sure I had a mother to make up for it.

I blinked away the tears in my eyes, hugging my mum for the last time.

I touched the bruise on her face gently. That was new.

"Don't let him hurt you. Don't put up with it. I love you." I said softly.

And taking one final look at my mother,-

"_Please. Please don't go."_

-the hallway-

"_Sorry sis, mums not getting out of prison any time soon. And I refuse to live in a house with just dad."_

-and the house I had grown up in,-

"_Dad and you and me! We have to keep this family from falling apart."_

I adjusted my shoulder bag-

"_Dad'll come after you."_

- to my other shoulder -

_"Let him. I'll disapear..."_

-and slipped out the door, fading into the darkness.

"... _like the Cheshire cat."_

**Sorry it's such a short chapter! Art will be joining YJ in a few chapters, so now I must ask, should there be spitfire? It will be more gradual than in the show *cough cough, MOVING TO FAST, cough cough* if I do choose to include it. Reviews are much appreciated! **


	6. Choices

**So many reviews for the last chapter! Sorry, but this means a long AN to answer any questions.**

**Another type of chapter altogether. I'm not so sure about this one. I wanted to show Artemis developing into that snarky girl she is, as a shell to stop people delving into her past. **

**Although I got many reviews encouraging spitfire (even an anon _called_ spitfire) there were some valid points on other dating aspects. I'm just warning you, this will never turn into a spitfire fic. It focuses on Artemis' life, and that is the main feature, not some gooey moments with Wally. There is a possibility of Icicle Junior coming in at some point thanks to an awesome review, and that may or may not lead to a relationship, but will also dig up some past history. SPOILERS.**

**And I don't want to make Artemis OOC. Which brings me to my next point.**

**A lot of people didn't expect Artemis to be the kind of person to run away and leave her mother. Don't worry. I'll make her feel as guilty as anything and there will be a solution MUHAHAHAHAHAH. Oh yes, and Artemis will be joining the team in a few chapters. (THE WAIIITTTTTT. im so mean. Sorry)**

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><p>What if you didn't have a choice? What if there was one option, and one option only, an option that could not be altered, an option that only had one end. And in all cases, the end was danger. What would you do? Would you take it? Or would you run?<p>

Only certain people can change their future.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

When I first stepped onto the street, my first thoughts were confident. I was going to be smarter than other runaways. Because I wasn't a runaway. I was a refugee.

I wasn't going to use a credit card (how dumb can you get?), I had a fake name to cover myself up (Elisha Croagh) and I sure as hell wasn't going to book into a hotel (pretty self explanatory).  
>I made a promise to myself that I wouldn't get scared. If I ran out of money I would steal some more - it wasn't as if I would get caught. I never got caught.<p>

One thing I was grateful I had inherited from my father.

And finally, I wasn't going to think of my father.

But I broke that the second I crossed the road.

It couldn't be him. Could it? I looked up at the face peering out the apartment window, it's eyes laced with anger. It didn't move. But I knew it was looking at me. I blinked a few times to get my eyes to focus. Then I realized who it was.

And I did the only logical option at the time.

I ran.

I ran until sweat poured down my face and my legs screamed for me to stop. I ran until my lungs were burning and my head throbbed. And then I nestled up behind a dumpster and cried. And all I could think was; Jade, oh my god, Jade was there... Why is Jade back? Why didn't I stay?

Because after first thoughts, these pesky things called second thoughts come along.

I missed Mum already. When Dad woke up I knew he would take out all his anger on her and it would be all my fault. And Jade... Jade had a habit of expressing her feelings physically.

The sun was rising now, and there were a few people on the streets.  
>What if one of them saw me? What of they saw the girl on the streets and reported her to the police?<br>What if... Some awful man came along and-

Oh God no.  
>I dismissed the 'what ifs' and pulled my back pack off my shoulders, setting it in my lap. I took out a piece of cloth, rubbing away the salty tears, blowing my nose.<p>

Ew.

I threw the cloth aside, screwing up my face. I splashed my face with a little of the water from my drink bottle, sponging it dry with my Tshirt.  
>As long as I kept myself busy, the what ifs stayed at bay and I wouldn't wimp out and go home.<p>

I shoved my bag behind the rubbish tip, practicing a faux smile. And I walked out onto the street.

. . . . . . . . .. . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Completing my usual routine I performed at the end of the day, I collapsed behind the tip. I retrieved my bag, pulling out a jumper which I lay over myself. I was so exhausted I couldn't even sleep. By the second week, all my clothes I had brought were dirtied, and there was no way I could pass off as a normal kid. School had started back up so I was either accused of skipping or being a runaway. The dirty clothes just added to people assuming the latter.

Of course, I still managed to do some odd jobs for people. Carrying crates, delivering something - I would do anything. I tucked my hair into my hoodie so people would think I was a boy. Cutting it was out of the question.

At least when people thought I was a boy I didn't get the shifty guys coming up to me asking if I could help them have a 'good time'.

I had boundaries. And that was just disgusting.

I couldn't bring myself to steal, though. I had made a promise to Mum - that I would take the right path. The wrong path was almost inevitable, but I had to stay true to Mum. If I ever saw her again, I wanted to be able to say that I listened. That I had followed her advice.

It was on the anniversary of my third week as a street kid that something happened in my alley.

There was commotion coming from the other side of the bin. I curled up, trying to block out the screams I could hear so clearly. Gotham. What can you expect?

"Please! Don't hurt me! My baby!"

Wincing, I peeked out from my hiding spot, only to jump immediately back in.

Pressed to the wall was a pregnant young woman, tears streaming down her face. Holding her down was a slightly older man, his face rough and bearded, his eyes filled with anger.

"I won't hurt you if ya hand over da jewels! Give em to me!"

"I don't have anything!"

The man pulled out a knife, pressing it to the blondes throat. The wound began to draw blood.

I had to stop him. But how? He could of easily been set up as bait for me by my father. He would just know that I couldn't help but interfere.

I couldn't stop him. I was too weak anyway.

I couldn't just leap out there...

Without my bow.

I found myself standing behind the man, my bow drawn, pointed to the back of his shaggy untamed hair. I blew some of my own hair out of my face, channeling as much courage as I could muster.

"Step away from her" I demanded.

The man turned around, sneering. He dropped the woman who scrambled to her feet and tried to run, but man grabbed her by her neck, throwing her against the wall, hard. She collapsed in a heap, whimpering.

"Naww, look what you made me do" he spat, "who are ya, anyway?"

While I'd been distracted by his words, he had reached for his knife.

I opened my mouth to answer but he came at me, swinging his knife wildly. I ducked and weaved away from each of his attacks. He was slow, that was his problem. I found myself knowing every move before he made it.

Thanks Dad.

I ducked another swipe, falling back onto my hands and kicking him in the face. He groaned and stumbled back as I flipped back onto my feet. Grabbing my discarded bow, I aimed an arrow directly for his loose clothes. It pierced through the material on his shoulder, putting him back up against the wall, and keeping him there. While he struggled to move, I delivered another kick to his stomach. He coughed for a few moments, before going limp.

I felt for his pulse. Alive. Just unconscious.

I tied him up with some rope from the dumpster, stretching out a hand to a woman on the ground.

She looked up at me with weary eyes, pulling herself up. I strained under the weight, helping the woman onto her feet.

She was panting heavily, her hands holding tight to her large stomach.

"Oh my god," she panted, collapsing onto my shoulder, "either I just wet my pants... Or my water just broke."

...

Well.

Happy three week anniversary, Artemis.

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><p><strong>HEROOOOO ARTY, FINALLLUYY<strong>

**Longer chapter, eh?**

**Getting Artemis into character is TOUGH especially when I try not to bash her up as much. Just the occasional beating, unless of course you guys want her to have to fight for her life... (... this makes me wonder who my readers are ...) **

**So, you know the drill.**

**Review.**

**Please.**

**The chapters come faster when I'm high on reviews :)**

**Oh, yeah. Any characters you think Arty should be friends with / hate? I want Roy. I just HAVE to have Roy feature in one chapter cos I love him. Dick may come in at some point, but not so much as a friend. More just investigating Arty.**

**Friends with Zatanna? Megan?**

**You decide.**

**(unless I hate that character. But I don't really hate anyone. I even love Arty despite what I do to her...)**


	7. Corroded

**Thanks to the lovely youngjusticefanatic for beta-ing this for me.**

**Soorry i havent updated in ages! Only your lovely reviews stopped me from leaving this for dead. So keep them up! Especially since im lacking motivation.**

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><p>What is it like to be a shadow?<p>

To be the essence of darkness, a simple 2D shape following its owner as the sun makes its daily journey across the sky. To blend into dark corners, disappear at night.

By definition, she was a shadow.

She made no impact on anyone - a simple figure that travelled with the sun. She was just _there._

She didn't depend on anyone, and no one depended on her.

No one got hurt that way.

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><p>There were three- no four, choices I could make here.<p>

I could run for the hills.

I knew this wasn't going to happen. Police wouldn't be happy if they found a woman on the streets, in labour, and clinging to life.

Well, she'd be clinging to life if someone didn't deliver the baby soon.

The worst thing out of this? I had let the woman see my face.

I had broken the one rule my father had persistently reminded me of. So if I made a run for it, this woman would be able to identify me. If she survived.

I could deliver the baby in the street.

Well, I knew how to do it. I hadn't actually _done _it before, but my Mum had taught me everything I needed to know. And I could probably get away before the police came. The woman would still of seen my face, but the police wouldn't be so desperate to find me. The only problem? This alley was dirty. Very dirty. So dirty I was pretty sure rats found it appalling and bacteria threw up at the sight of it. Maybe I'm exaggerating. But I didn't have any clean towels, let alone hot water. It wouldn't exactly be good for the baby.

I could bring the woman to the hospital.

There would be clean towels, hot water, and all that wasn't too bad. I guess the baby and her would be safe. Except I would have to get her there, which meant carrying a woman who had just gone into labour. Yeah, not that strong.

Ringing the ambulance would be okay, but the police would certainly want to get involved.

I could kill the woman.

Right here, right now. Just shove an arrow in her chest, and maybe another in her stomach to take care of the baby. But I felt so guilty about it. God! Why did I feel bad? I had killed people before. Why did I have to get so caring and compassionate all of a sudden?

Four options. Oh God did I want to pick the first, but I had to think about the future. Well, if I was talking about the future, certainly the fourth option would be the best?

I didn't get to choose any of the above options.

I shrieked as Jade jumped down in front of me, the woman on my shoulder nearly toppled over, her pants becoming faster.

Her hideous grinning mask eyed me down, those piercing eyes looking into my very soul.

"Having a bit of trouble there, Little Sis?" Her voice mocked me - teasing. "You ran away, just like me, but you were too dumb. Crime is inevitable for kids in our family, Art, and the sooner you learn that the better"

I lay the woman carefully down on the ground, the weight beginning to make my shoulder ache."You going to help me or not?" I hissed. It was a quick comeback, for me. I could feel a... Shell... Developing around me. A little bubble. A fast talking, strong, mask.

"Sure. I don't have any weapons on me, though. You got a poisoned knife or something?"

"Oh God... No, we can't kill her..."

"I didn't want to kill her, stupid. I was going to inject her with a tiny bit of poison to numb her senses. Less pain. She could need a cesarean..."

"We don't have the tools! And we need clean stuff-"

"I guess we're going back to my apartment then."

I froze, my arms stiff at my sides.

Jades... Apartment?

As in, the place where she lived? I had never even known Jade had a home, let alone been to her apartment.

I had always assumed she lived... Where? On the streets? No, she was too good for it. She was the master of disguises. She could have been _anywhere_. She could have been in my own _home _and I wouldn't have noticed.

Okay, maybe not.

But she had fooled me - _once -_ into thinking she was a chair. Once.

Jade took in the dirty alley, avoiding my incredulous stare. She sauntered over to a steel rusted bin, kicking it over. McDonalds wrappers splayed out across the asphalt, joined by a zip-lock bag full of a _mysterious _white powder.

"I could smell it." Jade stated, sniffing and wiping a perfectly manicured hand across the forehead of her mask. How do you smell _that! _What was she, a dog?

"Your _apartment_" I repeated.

The woman groaned from the ground.

"You'd better make up your mind, sis. Chick's premature and losing a lot of blood"

I snapped into action, placing my grubby hands under the woman and attempting to lift her.

Jade rolled her eyes and picked by the woman by the scruff of her neck, slinging her over her right shoulder, narrowly avoiding her quiver.

"Watch _out,_" I hissed, scrambling over to move the woman's head away from a protruding arrow, "Last thing we need is a knife through her face."

Jade paused, turning to me to deliver a harsh glare through her mask. I put one hand on my hip and inspected my nails, pretending they were long and filed like Jade's, not cracked and bitten down to the cuticle.

"My current place is just up there" she muttered through gritted teeth, gesturing to a door sitting about two stories off the ground. I glanced at the rickety, rusty fire escape ladder that I supposed would be our only way up. There were at least a dozen steps missing.

The woman let off another low complaint.

"That's what I think" Jade laughed, grabbing the edge of the ladder and adjusting the woman on her shoulder.

"We- we can't... Jade _she's about to have a baby_"

Jade rolled her eyes and took a step up onto the ladder, gritting her teeth. The woman was heavy, and I knew it. Jade was strong, but not that strong.

"Here," I muttered, grabbing an arrow out of my own quiver - a leather wrapped vase that I had fastened to my back with the drawstring from my backpack. "I haven't tested it on people... That are _that _heavy, but I'll give it a shot."

I pulled out my bow. Of all the things I had brought on my 'runaway adventure', it was in the best condition. I regularly stole polish from hardware stores to keep it in pristine condition, making sure the string was taunt every night before I went to bed.

I pulled back an arrow, aiming for the the top of the ladder, just before the door. It shot out, a trail of wire behind it, wrapping itself around the ledge. I pulled on it to tighten the knot.

Jade looked at me warily before returning to her fearless expression. "Whatever. Hook it onto me and I'll carry her up on it." I glanced at the loop in my hands and twisted it around Jades body. Her waist was tiny, it barely took up any room.

"Have you been eating?" I whispered, adjusting the wire and guiding her hand towards the button that would trigger the pulling.

"Not you too. It's bad enough having-" Jade stopped mid sentence and fiddled with the switch.

"Who?" I questioned, grabbing her hand so she couldn't escape the question.

"No one."

"_Who?_" I demanded and she tore her hand away.

"_No one! Keep out of my life!" _she snapped, pressing the button. The wire began pulling her up and I stepped back, waiting until she was a few feet above my head to follow to the ladder.

Jade shot me a wry smile when I reached the top. I glanced at a scratch that had started staining my shirt with crimson. If that had come from that stupid ladder, I was going to need a tetanus shot. Which I didn't exactly have lying around.

Jade took in a deep breath and grabbed at the door handle - a bolt with a boot hanging off it - and winked at me.

"Bienvenue, petite sœur, à la maison de l'horreur" she whispered, grabbing the boot.

I felt myself pale as I slowly worked out the translation.

_Welcome, little sister, to the house of horror._

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading! Please review! and also, i have tumblr now:<strong>_  
><em>

**youhavetobeshippingme . tumblr . com**

**(delete the spaces)**


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